Fire
by Filthy Bunny
Summary: LJ is in Panama for spring break, and concerned about his father's increasingly frequent fights with Sofia. Michael tries to give him a little perspective. Slightly fluffy, light-hearted one-shot. Alternative canon, post-S4. Linc/Sofia, Michael/Sara


**Fire**

Sand poured in over the tops of LJ's sneakers as he trudged along the beach to his uncle's house. Even in jeans and a t-shirt he was too warmly dressed for the Panamanian heat, but his skin was pasty white after spending the fall and spring semesters of his freshman year at college up in Virginia, and the tanned bodies around him made him too self-conscious to venture out in shorts.

He reached the little white house where Michael and Sara lived, and after knocking on the glass, let himself in through the doors on the veranda. Michael was inside, sitting at the table in their living area with Michael Jr perched in his lap.

"Hey," Michael said as LJ waved a greeting. "We're just having lunch. You want anything?" He took a scoop from a jar of some disgusting-looking orange paste with a plastic spoon, which he then tried to coax into his son's mouth. MJ was far more intent on grabbing at the bread and salad on his father's plate.

"I'm fine, thanks," LJ said. He took a seat opposite his uncle and little cousin. MJ turned to study the newcomer with a serious expression. LJ reached out and shook one of the boy's chubby hands. "How's it going, little buddy?"

"Ba," MJ replied, after some consideration.

"So, how are you enjoying Spring Break so far?" Michael asked. "I can't believe you'd rather be in here with us than out on the beach. Especially with so many pretty girls running around," he added, smiling.

"I have the rest of my life to chase after girls," LJ replied magnanimously. "Anyway, I like spending time with you guys." He had received plentiful offers from his college buddies to take part in a more raucous kind of vacation fun, but in truth he had wanted nothing more than to head south and unwind with his family. He enjoyed college, and liked being able to let loose and act his age every once in a while, but sometimes he simply felt too old and weary to enjoy it. When the drunken antics and petty dramas of his peers got too much for him, he needed time to reconnect with loved ones who were older and wiser; who understood the hell that LJ had already lived through, because they had lived it too.

He and Michael chatted for a while about college, about LJ's classes, about dorm life and how little it had apparently changed since Michael was an undergrad in Chicago. After a while they fell into comfortable silence, broken only by the scraping of the spoon in the jar and the occasional monosyllabic musing from MJ.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Michael said at last.

"About what?"

"Whatever it is that's bothering you."

LJ sighed. "You can tell?"

Michael shrugged. "It looks as though you have something on your mind. Anything I can help with?"

"I don't know. Maybe." LJ looked at his uncle uncertainly. "It's Dad and Sofia."

"What's wrong?"

"They're fighting," LJ told him. "At least, they were just now, before I left. Yelling and throwing things around like a couple of teenagers. But it's been happening a lot."

"What were they arguing about?"

"I don't know, I was trying to tune it out. But it's always something stupid. Like, little things at the dive shop, or who last did the dishes. Or she'll get mad at him for checking out some girl on the beach, but then she'll flirt with customers and Dad'll go off about _that_..."

"They always make up afterwards though, right?"

"I guess. And then they're all over each other again, ugh."

"Maybe the end justifies the means," Michael said with a knowing smile.

LJ gave him a cynical look. "You think they're only fighting so they can make up later?"

"I don't think it's quite that simple, but it's certainly a part of it." Michael shifted MJ to his other knee to keep the grabby little hands from mashing the food on his plate. "Your dad has always had a thing for feisty women. He likes it when a woman has the guts to call him out on something. Sometimes he pushes the boundaries a little to make sure she's keeping him in check."

LJ scowled. "That's _retarded_." Michael laughed. "Anyway, Sofia isn't really like that. At least, she wasn't before. She always seemed sweet and gentle. But now... God, you should hear the things that come out of her mouth," LJ said with a mournful shake of his head. "I don't understand enough Spanish to know what most of them mean, but they still make me blush."

Michael fought back a grin. "I think it's worth remembering that both Sofia and your father have had bad luck with relationships in the past. They've both had issues with trust. Fighting may not seem very constructive, but it's a way for them to be sure everything's out in the open; prove they can be totally honest with each other."

"But why not just _talk_?"

Michael shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose talking is just one of the ways we communicate. Didn't you ever pick on girls you liked when you were a kid?"

"Sure, when I was eight years old. Dad should have grown out of that by now."

"Maybe he's enjoying a second childhood." Through patient perseverance, Michael had managed to get MJ to finish the orange paste, and now he dropped the plastic spoon into the empty jar and wiped MJ's sticky mouth on his bib. "In all honesty, LJ, your dad is happier these days than I've ever seen him." Michael looked back at his nephew. "But if you're still worried, you should talk to him. I know he wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

LJ nodded vaguely. It was true that his father was happier. And why wouldn't he be? He had gone from a troubled youth of drug abuse and crime to rotting on death row to being one of the US's most wanted fugitives; not the sort of life that offered second chances. But now here his was, a free man, a _new_ man, living in paradise with his own business, his brother's family living just down the beach, and a _seriously_ hot girlfriend to boot. LJ's own life had been a reflection – or perhaps a shadow – of Lincoln Sr's: a difficult childhood, an adolescence spent flirting with crime, and then a few unimaginably painful months that had cost him almost everything and everyone he cared about. And now he too had a second chance, and he tried to make the most of it every day. LJ loved his father deeply and knew that he deserved his new life, but if anything he was irritated with Lincoln for not being even happier; for marring perfection with these petty arguments.

He noticed Michael look up, distracted by a movement out on the veranda. LJ turned to follow the line of his gaze and saw Sara standing there, peeling her way out of a clinging wetsuit. She wore a simple white bikini underneath, and LJ couldn't help but take a second to appreciate how well beach living was treating her. She was tanned, lithe from swimming, her hair lightened by sun and saltwater. She had also earned a more relaxed, breezy air that made the overall picture even more attractive. Slightly red-faced, LJ forced himself to return his gaze to the table before he could be caught ogling her. Fortunately Michael was still too busy ogling to notice.

"Well, look at that," Sara said brightly as she wandered into the house, tying a sarong around her waist. "It's my three favourite boys."

She stopped behind Michael's chair and leaned her arms around his shoulders to hug him. Her skin was cool and slightly damp from the sea. She planted a salty kiss on his ear.

"What have I been missing?" she asked, stealing a grape from his plate. "Anything good?"

"LJ's worried because Linc and Sofia have been arguing," Michael said. "I tried to explain that Linc likes his women to have a little _fire_."

"Ah," Sara said knowingly. She gave a suggestive little laugh. "He's not the only one."

"Don't listen to her, LJ," Michael said with exaggerated composure. He jiggled MJ on his knee and lowered his face to the fuzzy dark hair of his son's head. "Mommy and Daddy are the very picture of peaceful marital bliss, isn't that right?"

Sara laughed again and stroked MJ's head, then kissed Michael's. "Well, we don't yell at each other or throw dishes," she said. "But that doesn't mean we can't appreciate a little... _friction_," she said, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper on the last word. Michael tilted his head and gave her a sizzling look that was probably _not_ appropriate for the present company.

LJ grimaced; dear God, not these two as well? There must be something in the water down here that caused intelligent adults to act half their age. He cleared his throat and got up from the table. "Well, I should probably get back and study. I have a couple of papers to write."

"Okay," Michael replied, breaking his eye contact with Sara. "But don't forget to have _some_ fun while you're down here. And don't worry about your dad and Sofia. I'll keep an eye on them."

LJ nodded. He smiled and bid them goodbye, pulling one last face for MJ, who blinked at him with puzzled affection.

Once his nephew was safely out of earshot, Michael tipped his head back to look up into his wife's eyes. "Any more talk like that in front of family members," he purred, his voice so low it almost rumbled, "And I may have to put you across my knee."

Sara smiled in wicked delight. "You'd have to catch me first."

* * *

><p>The house was so quiet when LJ returned that he assumed he was alone. He paused in the hallway to pick something up off the floor; a tooth-like fragment of a shattered plate, a remnant of the afternoon's argument. It was only as he passed the open door to the living room that he heard a murmur of voices, and paused to look inside.<p>

His dad and Sofia were on the couch, entwined in a loving embrace, one of Sofia's long bare legs draped across Lincoln's lap and her arms around his neck. Lincoln had one hand in her hair, enjoying the feel of it between his fingertips, while the other stroked lazily up and down her thigh. Neither of them noticed LJ standing in the hall, or if they did, they failed to acknowledge him. They were talking in low voices, smiling around their hushed words, eyes fixed on each other in a look of mutual adoration. Sofia's eyes and skin seemed to glow with an intense satisfaction. The look between them was so intimate that even though both were fully dressed and engaged in nothing more physical than a little light petting, LJ blushed as though he had walked in on them in the throes of something far more private. He quickly averted his eyes and hurried off towards his room.

Safely inside, he grabbed a book and dropped onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. He pictured the look of pleasure on Sofia's face and conceded that there must be some measure of truth in his uncle's theory. And he'd thought the dating behaviours of the freshmen in his dorm were juvenile. He swore – not for the first time – that when he finally met that special someone, he was going to steer well clear of all these nonsensical games. He would be an absolute gentleman, and treat her like a queen.

The sound of footsteps and a soft, feminine laugh drifted down the hallway, shortly followed by the bang of a bedroom door. LJ sighed again and reached for his mp3 player before he could overhear any more.

Honestly, sometimes he felt like the only adult in this place.


End file.
